


through crimson sunglasses

by peachsneakers



Series: preservation of the self [12]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anger, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxceit - Freeform, Anxiety Attacks, Aromantic Roman Sanders, Cuddling, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrulogical, M/M, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Panic Attacks, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Wrathality, gay shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-01-03 08:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Wrath doesn't know what to do around Patton. He never has.





	1. discombobulation

**Author's Note:**

> surprise
> 
> wrath needs some gay shit
> 
> idk how long this will be

Wrath opens his bedroom door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand, and blinks.

When he went to bed, his room was connected to the Dark Sides. He _knows_ this as intimately as the back of his own hands. The gloom is hard to miss. Yet this-

The Light Sides hallway beckons him.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. He wonders if this is how Deceit felt, when he found out his room had been summarily moved around without his knowledge or consent.

It's not that he doesn't _want_ to be connected to the Light Sides. He does. He wants to explore more of...whatever he has going on with Patton. He wants to see Virgil, Deceit, and Remus more (when he can pry them away from each other and Logan, respectively, that is).

But it makes his stomach roil to see that _choice_ taken away. He already knows that he can't come back. Deceit explained that. No matter how much he'd wanted to- how much he'd felt the _others_ wanted him to-

Thomas's mind just didn't work like that.

"Wrath?" Patton's sleepy voice interrupts his drowsy reverie. He looks up to see an excited Patton, wearing a cat onesie and bouncing on his tiptoes. His glasses are crooked and Wrath's fingers itch with the urge to straighten them.

"The one and only," Wrath says roughly. "My uh- my room seems to have moved." Right across from Patton's room, too, as if that wasn't the universe trying to bludgeon him over the head. He could take a hint.

"That's wonderful!" Patton exclaims in delight, then pauses. "Er- I mean- are you okay with it moving?" Touched by Patton's concern, Wrath clears his throat.

"I guess," he says. "I mean, I expected it to happen sooner or later. Just didn't expect this soon."

"I'm sorry," Patton says. He makes an abortive move, like he wants to pat Wrath's arm, then thinks better of it.

"You don't have to treat me like I'm glass, you know," Wrath says. "I won't break if you touch me." Patton's eyes widen like saucers behind his glasses.

"Oh, I'm not trying to treat you that way!" He assures Wrath. "I just don't want to do anything that you're uncomfortable with, that's all."

"Well, you're fine," Wrath mumbles. The back of his neck is hot. "You can do whatever, uh, you wanted to do."

Patton rests a hand on Wrath's arm. His fingers feel like ice.

"You're so warm," Patton says in concern, brows furrowed. "Are you all right?"

"Uh, yeah," Wrath says. "I just run hot, that's all." He prays the half-truth doesn't wake up Deceit. Thankfully, no hint of yellow shows up.

"Wanna help me make breakfast?" Patton asks. "Or just talk to me?"

"Sure," Wrath says, following him down to the kitchen. "Are you always the one who makes breakfast?"

"Not always," Patton says. "But a lot of the time. I like making breakfast. I'm good at it. I don't trust Roman _or_ Remus around the stove." His nose wrinkles. "Virgil gets anxious, but he likes to help."

"Deceit's not bad," Wrath mentions. "And I hear Logan's good at baking."

"He is!" Patton exclaims warmly. "He makes the most scrumptious cookies. I hope he makes another batch soon."

"He could make them with Remus," Wrath suggests. Patton's mouth opens and closes a few times.

"...Actually, that's not a bad idea," Patton finally decides. "I'm sure Logan could make sure that the cookies stay edible."

"Probably," Wrath says, pulling down the ingredients for homemade french toast. Powdered sugar hangs in the air already, dusting Patton's cheek.

"You uh, got something there," Wrath says.

"Help me out?" Patton asks. Swallowing hard, Wrath snags a napkin and dabs at the sugar covering Patton's cheek. Even through the napkin, he could feel how soft Patton's skin is, and his face warms.

"Thank you!" Patton says cheerfully, as if he isn't aware of the moment at all. Wrath's throat feels as dry as the Sahara as he steps away, tossing the napkin in the bin.

How is he supposed to survive this?


	2. patton is a useless gay

How is he supposed to survive this?

Wrath is so _close_, Patton can feel his breath stirring his bangs, and the look in his eyes makes Patton want to go all hot and wobbly. Does the man know what he's doing? He _has_ to and yet, Patton can't be certain. He knows Wrath is touch starved. He doesn't seem to understand affection very well at all, and it makes Patton's heart ache.

But how can he _stand_ it when Wrath is _right there_, brushing powdered sugar off the curve of his cheek with a napkin-covered thumb?

"Thank you!" Patton says cheerfully, forcing himself to act normally, and letting out a silent whoosh of breath as Wrath steps away, tossing the napkin into the bin.

"So how do you make french toast, anyway?" Wrath asks, and Patton loses himself in the explanation, never quite forgetting the solid warmth just inches from his side. He enlists Wrath's help with soaking the bread, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye at Wrath's hands. He can't help but imagine those hands wrapped around him, and he feels like he's about to spontaneously combust.

"This is easier than I thought," Wrath says in surprise. 

"Yeah, it's easy to make," Patton says, with a happy nod. "It tastes so good. Have you- have you ever had it?" Wrath hesitates, then shakes his head.

"Can't say I ever have," he admits. "Not a lot of variety in the Dark Sides."

"I can make you anything you want," Patton blurts out. _Like me- Oh my god, Patton, stop being so desperate. Just because you're the heart doesn't mean you should scare him off!_

"Thanks," Wrath says, giving him a slow smile that makes his heart speed up. "I uh, I might take you up on that."

Patton open his mouth, not sure what he wants to say, but knowing he desperately wants to come up with _something_.

"Good morning!" Roman sings grandly, spinning into the kitchen. He's already fully dressed and primped, making Patton acutely aware that he's still in his _cat onesie_. "Patton, did you notice there's a new door across from yours-"

"It's mine," Wrath interrupts, his shoulders hunched. "I guess Thomas's mind decided I belonged over here."

"How does that make you feel?" Roman asks. Wrath shrugs.

"Dunno," he says. "It's fucking- freaking- weird. And I guess I... I don't _mind_, I wanted to come over here, but I don't like not getting to choose."

"Remus had issues with being connected to my room," Roman says, surprising Patton. "Maybe you could talk to him about it?"

"I think I will," Wrath murmurs. "Thanks." Roman grins.

"No problem!" He says, sketching a broad salute. "Are the others still asleep?"

"Not anymore," Virgil grumbles, slinking into the kitchen, Deceit trailing after him. He's got his hoodie on, but he's still in his socks. Patton smiles to see there are orange pumpkins printed on them. "You're _loud_, Princey."

"You just can't handle the fact that I'm a morning person, Panic at the Everywhere," Roman says, rummaging through the fridge and pulling out the orange juice.

"You're right, Prince Dork-ula, I can't," Virgil says, a smile playing around his mouth. It relieves Patton, seeing that smile.

"DORK MEANS WHALE PENIS!" Remus shouts at the top of his lungs, careening into the kitchen with Logan stumbling behind him, hands tightly clasped. Logan's tie is crooked and his glasses are sliding down his nose.

"Well, you all have wonderful timing!" Patton announces brightly. "It's time for breakfast!"


	3. well that's not ominous at all

Deceit can't stop smiling at breakfast. It doesn't help that Virgil insists on playing footsie under the table. (He knows. He checked.) Virgil's socked feet playing with his makes a blush rise up his face, and it's only by sheer force of will that a besotted giggle doesn't spill forth.

"This is _hideous_ as always," he compliments Patton, so flustered he slips back into lying. Patton beams, understanding properly.

"Thanks!" He says happily. "Wrath helped me make it." Deceit turns surprised eyes on a suddenly bright red Wrath, who looks very intent on studying the table.

"Well done," Deceit says.

"It was nothing," Wrath dismisses. Deceit arches one eyebrow, deliberately flicking his tongue out and making a face at the bitter taste of the half-truth. Wrath's flush intensifies when he sees it.

"Wrath did such a good job," Patton gushes. "He can help me cook any day."

"Him over Remus any day, please," Roman says, eyeing his brother. So far this morning, Logan has persuaded him not to eat deodorant, car batteries, and cologne. Deceit knows the deodorant is fondant, but he's not sure on the other two. Knowing Remus, it could be another clever falsification or the real deal. "At least Wrath knows what real food is."

"Just because I have a broader palate than you-" Remus starts, provoking an indignant huff from Roman. (Deceit _knows_ it's on purpose. Roman is far too easy to rile up.)

Deceit tunes out the ensuing argument, having eyes only for the messy-haired emo sitting across from him. Virgil looks up, sensing his scrutiny, and smiles sleepily. Deceit cherishes that smile, hoarding it close to him like a precious piece of treasure.

"Sup, babes," a familiar voice greets them, making Deceit jump, Virgil end up halfway across the kitchen, and Roman squeak something _terribly _undignified.

"Remy?" Deceit asks in surprise as Virgil slowly comes back to his chair, his cheeks burning. "What are you doing here?"

"Would you like some breakfast?" Patton asks. "I made French toast."

"Sorry, but I'm here on serious business," Remy says, lowering his sunglasses. For once, the omnipresent Starbucks cup is nowhere in sight. The realization sends a cold chill down Deceit's spine.

"What?" Logan asks. He looks as serious as Deceit feels.

"Your little expedition to the subconscious stirred up some ghosts of sins past, if you catch my drift," Remy says. Virgil winces and Remy marches up to him. "Don't you dare take the blame, bitch, they would have freaked sooner or later, anyway. It's not _you_ that stirred them up." His eyes dart over to Wrath for a split second, almost too quickly for Deceit to be sure of what he saw.

"It's because of me, isn't it," Wrath says dully. "Because I'm not there anymore."

"Got it in a nutshell," Remy admits. "Especially now- the whole mindscape felt that shift to the Light Side, you know. Kudos to you, and all that jazz, but I'd watch your back."

"But they're stuck in the subconscious!" Roman protests. "They can't come _here_...can they?"

"Did your brother inherit all the brains or what?" Remy demands, leveling an incredulous stare over the rims of his sunglasses. "Of course they can, Ro Ro, and they can do it through _you_. The Imagination. Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust already hang out there on a regular basis, anyway. And it's not exactly a _leap_ to go from there to here."

"But-" Roman's mouth works for a second. "Is there anything I can do about it?" He finally asks.

"Excellent question, now you're thinking," Remy says. "Unfortunately, the answer is no. You can't keep them out, not if they want in that badly. And if _you_ choose to lock up the Imagination from _this_ side, well... You're looking at massive creative block, which screws over Thomas. They probably won't check out Remus's side of the Imagination-"

"Not if they know what's good for them," Remus mutters, serious for once.

"But that doesn't mean they won't," Remy continues. "Hey, I just wanted to warn you. We had, like, a moment or whatever." His cheeks stain pink.

"Thank you for the warning, Remy," Logan says. "Do you know what we _can_ do?" Remy shrugs.

"Stick together?" He says. "Warn Thomas? For that matter..." He gives them a sheepish smile. "Can I hang out here? I uh, I'm not too sure how they'll react if they find out I said anything, but I _know_ it won't be good."

"How can we be so sure it's Remy?" Wrath asks.

"Wrath!" Patton cries. "Of course it's Remy. ...Isn't it?" He trails off uncertainly.

"Dee," Remy addresses him. "You'd know." Deceit stands up, stalking over to the function. He let his tongue flicker, focusing every ounce of his being on the answer.

"It is," Deceit announces. "For now." Remy sags in relief and only then does Deceit notice that his hands are shaking.

"Thanks," Remy mutters. "You- I think they caught me listening in." A frown crosses his face.

"I guess living room slumber parties are in this season," Roman murmurs.

_For how long?_ Deceit wonders.


	4. splitting  up like white girls in a horror movie? i think not

Clean up after breakfast is tense, almost too tense for Virgil to stand. He drifts around the kitchen like a ghost, dutifully helping Patton wash up on autopilot. Every now and then, his gaze drifts across the room, catching Deceit's worried eyes. And if _Dee_ is worried...

"I might be able to do something from this side that won't land me in creative block," Roman announces, from a hushed conversation with his brother. Remus nods in agreement, his eyes glittering. "We can do it now. We'll just be right back and-"

"Nuh uh," Virgil says, before he even realizes he's speaking. He blinks. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Isn't that how the saying goes? He continues. "We are _not_ splitting up. That's how people get murdered in every horror movie I've ever seen."

"We aren't living in a horror movie," Roman protests, but Remus nods thoughtfully.

"Virgey is right!" He announces. "Ro Ro, don't be a dumb. What if they're already there and they snatch you up? And use you for live bait? And your head for target practice? And all your guts ooze out, and you have to hold your intestines or they'll just go splat on the ground and get dusty and you'll just be part dust when you shovel them back in and-"

"All right, all right, enough!" Roman interrupts, holding up one hand. He looks vaguely queasy. "Point taken. We all go together."

"We should go now, if you're gonna go," Remy says. Virgil notices with mild relief that he's summoned a Starbucks drink and he keeps taking aimless sips.

"My room first," Roman says. "They- no offense, Remus, but I think they're more likely to sneak through my part of the Imagination than yours."

"None taken," Remus says cheerfully.

The twins go first, flanked by Deceit and Virgil. Wrath brings up the rear, sandwiching Logan, Patton, and Remy. Virgil feels on edge, like he's teetering on a tightrope thousands of feet in the air and one wrong move will send him plummeting to his death.

Nothing _looks_ out of place in Roman's room, but Virgil looks to Roman himself to give the final nod on that.

"Nothing," he says. "Everything looks fine." Deceit's tongue flicks out, tasting the air, and he nods. No deception hangs in the room. Roman strides over to the door to the Imagination, his hands glittering for a second. In the next instant, thin gold chains lash out, criss-crossing the door in tight loops.

"It isn't perfect," Roman says. "But it should work. And it will chime if the chains are disrupted, loud enough for everyone to hear it. I don't wish to show it off at the moment, I'm sure you can understand."

"If they could hear it..." Wrath trails off in a mutter. Roman nods solemnly.

"My turn!" Remus says, excited. He bounces on his toes, clapping. "Ooh, I can't wait-" He leads the way into his own room, which is still a disaster. Clothes are flung every which way, forming haphazard piles.

"No one's been in here," Remus says. Deceit performs the same duties, nodding in agreement.

Remus's door is more tarnished-looking, more ominous. Perhaps it's fitting, then, that instead of thin metal chains, green-hued tentacles slowly writhe over the surface of the door, leaving thin trails of dark slime behind them. Virgil swallows, seeing that.

"Don't worry," Remus says cheerfully. "It's just acid." Somehow, that doesn't reassure him. "If someone tries to come through here, it will chime but really it will sound like the screams of the dying, have you ever heard that, I wonder what it sounds like in the real world, does it sound like the movies-"

"Come on," Deceit gently says, steering him out of the room. The rest follow, giving uneasy looks at the tentacle-wreathed door.

They gather in the living room, Roman snapping his fingers and turning the couch into an enormous bed with an upholstered headboard and mounds of pillows.

"Might as well get started early," he says, at Virgil's questioning look. "What else are we going to do all day?"

"Well, I think we should post a guard," Virgil says. "But not just one person. Maybe two?"

"So pairs?" Patton asks. "Who would the pairs be?"

"Patton and Wrath, Virgil and Deceit, me and Remus, Roman and Remy," Logan says. "Unless you think it would be more advantageous to split up Virgil and Deceit and pair them with Roman and Remy, respectively."

"Perhaps," Deceit says reluctantly. "It would mean one Dark side with each person. If I am paired with Remy, I can always ensure that he is who he says he is. No offense, Remy."

"None taken, babe," Remy says. "Shit, I _want_ you to do that. I don't want to end up locked up in the subconscious while some bozo wears my face." He shudders. "No, thanks."

"Do the others shapeshift often?" Logan asks, curious.

"They _can_," Wrath answers. "But it is difficult."

"Think how I do it, but ten times worse," Deceit says, his face reddening at the memories of his past failures. 

"You mostly had Pat down," Virgil says. "Logan, you were way off, though."

"It's easier for me to pretend to be Morality," Deceit says. "Our jobs play off each other. Logic, on the other hand..." He scrunches his nose, and Virgil laughs.

"So they should be obvious," Logan says, guiding them back on topic. Wrath nods.

"Chances are, they'll just pretend to be one of you and hope that you don't notice there's two of you," he says. "Until it's too late."

"Well, that's creepy as hell," Virgil says, rubbing his arms. He looks around the room as surreptitiously as he can, noticing that he's not the only one. He breathes a sigh of relief when he comes up with the correct number.

"This might help," Patton says. "I- It takes a bit out of me, doing this, but." He raises one hand, concentrating. Virgil watches in shock as thin walls of light slam down soundlessly over the hallway, leaving them entrance only to the kitchen, living room, and bathroom.

"Arachne!" Virgil blurts out, a moment too late. Patton winces.

"Already thought of her," he says, swallowing bravely. He lifts a carrying cage, showcasing Virgil's pet spider. "Um. Please put her on your side."

"Thanks, Pat," Virgil gushes, taking the carrying cage and setting it on the other side of the bed. "It means a lot."

"So um, yeah," Patton says. "It's not impossible to get through, but it's hard."

"Interesting," Deceit murmurs, staring at Patton in a new light. "I didn't know that you could do that." Patton shrugs.

"I think it's part of being, well, I don't like saying it, but the leader of this side," Patton says. Virgil watches Deceit taste the air, hidden behind one gloved hand, and the relief blossom in his eyes when Patton registers as who he says he is.

"Movie night?" Roman asks, changing the subject. "Well, day?"

"Sounds good to me," Patton says. Virgil nods in agreement, shifting closer to Deceit. One of Deceit's extra arms wraps around his waist, pulling him close, as Deceit whispers in his ear.

"Everyone's themselves for now."

The last two words send a shiver down Virgil's spine.


	5. a mental trek down memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise, it's an update

"Let's watch porn," Remus blurts out. Roman gives him an appalled look.

"No!" Roman declares. "That- We're watching _Disney_, Remus, not-"

"Okay, so Disney porn," Remus suggests, purely to watch the red intensify on his brother's face. Just when he looks like he's about to implode, Patton puts a soothing hand on his arm.

"What if we watched Pixar first?" Patton says, diplomatic. Out of the corners of his eyes, Remus can see the shimmer from the barriers Patton has put in place.

"Fine," Roman acquiesces.

"Is that all right with you, cephy?" Logan asks. Remus nods, entranced with the nickname. It's hard for him to sit still. His legs want to bounce and his arms want to jitter at his sides. He can't stop thinking about the tentacles wreathing his entrance to the Imagination. He agrees with the others- it's unlikely that the sins will decide to go through _his_ side- but he can't help imagining it, anyway. It would almost be entertaining if they met up with a were-bear. What would happen then? Would the were-bear unzip their insides with one slash of its claws? Would they gush blood, spurting high like a fountain? Or an upside-down waterfall?

But thinking of a were-bear attack makes him remember the attack on _Roman_, and that makes his stomach hurt and his throat clog. No matter how angry he was at his brother, he can't forget the sharp splinter of terror that ran him through when he realized that his brother was facing an angry were-bear- had already been damaged by the beast's claws and _still_ insisted on facing it, just to help the others get away-

"Are you all right?" Deceit murmurs, peering into his eyes. Remus nods, but he knows the manic smile he sports doesn't reach his eyes. Not when his brain is crammed full of Roman's sweaty, pallid face and blood-streaked shoulder.

"_Finding Nemo_ again?" Virgil questions, not privy to the silent conversation Deceit and Logan are having with him.

"Why not?" Patton asks. "It's a good movie."

"The beginning is sad as shit," Virgil grumbles, but Remus can hear the smile in his voice. He looks over to see Virgil curling up in his hoodie, resting his head on Deceit's shoulder.

"If you need anything, Remus, just tell me," Logan whispers in his ear. "The kitchen is still free, after all."

"Thanks," Remus mutters back. "I'm fine." The lie is as bitter on his tongue as it must feel bursting over Deceit's. Deceit nudges his shoulder, giving him a warning look.

As the barracuda swims across the screen, Remus's mind returns to his side of the Imagination. He can't see Sloth, Gluttony, or Lust caring enough to leave the Imagination. Sloth is almost always asleep, so he would be useless. Gluttony and Lust find their own...appetites thoroughly slaked in Roman's side of the Imagination, and why would they want to mess with that particular gravy train? It makes as much sense as a baby bird growing human legs.

But the twins and Pride? _Especially_ Pride, after Remus's little dig at him. But he's quite _proud_ (ha!) of calling the other sin a bitch. Anyone that put that hurt sound in Roman's throat was instantly on Remus's shit list, and the sins were on thin ice, as it were. Wrath had always been the only tolerable one, in Remus's opinion. (Although he finds it hilarious to watch Wrath and Patton make goo goo eyes at each other now.)

But do they have a point? Remus considers, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. He knows what it feels like to not be accepted. It _hurts_, no matter how much he pretended in the past that he didn't care, that it didn't matter that he was the evil twin, cast out in the darkness. 

Thomas doesn't need them, though. Not like _that_. Pride, maybe, but there was such a thing as too much pride. And envy? Jealousy? Sure, Thomas _needed_ that sometimes, but all the time? To the extent they coveted? Remus frowns. He can't see it being good for Thomas. _He's_ not always good for Thomas, but he's been trying. He sneaks a peek up at Logan's profile, eyes focusing on one of the hickeys decorating his boyfriend's neck. Logan looks down on him and smiles, making Remus feel like he's gone all fizzy and bubbly, like someone's taken a champagne bottle and shaken the hell out of it.

They'll cross that smoking bridge when they come to it, Remus decides, taking Logan's hand and gently squeezing his fingers. That's all there is to it.

He hopes.


	6. i am so much more than royal

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Pride glares in frustration at Sloth, who's propped himself up on one cozy arm, staring at him with sleep-blurred eyes. Clearly, he thought he had a good thing going, on this massive bed piled high with pillows. And since it's the Imagination, Pride knows there's no point in trying to disturb it. It will just rebuild itself. It might even be enough to alert Roman, and that's exactly what he _doesn't_ want. _You might if it was Romulus,_ his mind taunts.

It doesn't mean he's not tempted, though, and he turns away with an aggravated sigh, running his hand through his hair and carefully avoiding disturbing his crown. The twins eye him curiously, but he ignores them. He's got _them_ on his side, he knows that. Envy and Jealousy have always wanted to play a bigger hand, take up more room at the table. It's part of who they _are_, and right now, that makes them irresistible.

_He_ should be the one in the Light Sides hallway, not _Wrath_. Thomas _needs_ him. Shouldn't he be _proud_ of his accomplishments? Shouldn't he vie for more? How can _anger_ assist him?

Besides, the only reason Wrath's found his fortune is because of _Patton_. Pride's lips involuntarily wrinkle back from his teeth. Fucking _Morality_. He's the reason for the split between Light and Dark, the reason that Pride and his associates have spent so long in the cold emptiness of the subconscious. Good vs evil, but Morality's always been the one holding the cards, always the one making the decision.

Pride is _sick_ of it.

But even that pales in comparison to the most grievous sin of all that Morality has committed. _When one became two-_

_When Romulus..._

_Broke._

"Are you all right?" Envy's voice hesitantly breaks the silence. He stiffens. Behind him, he can hear Sloth's soft snuffles, indicating he's already gone back to sleep. Of course he has.

"Fine," he says brusquely. "I'm fine." _Liar._

It's harder than he expected, being in the Imagination. He can admit that to himself, if no one else. This- this picture perfect portrait grates on him. It's _wrong_, it's _incomplete_, and it's all because of Morality.

"One down, two to go," he says aloud.

"I doubt either of them will help," Jealousy admits, resting his baseball bat on one shoulder. His eyes glitter in the sunlight. "You know what they're like."

"Useless," Pride mutters. "Very well. Perhaps we should move to Remus's portion of the Imagination." Envy and Jealousy exchange uneasy looks.

"Uh, why?" Jealousy asks bluntly.

"Because," Pride says. "Do you not think that Sleep has warned them of our plans? Roman will have his door into the Imagination locked up tighter than Davy Jones's locker. But they might not have locked Remus's. They might assume we are too- too _cowardly_ to brave his side of the Imagination."

"I mean, we kinda are," Jealousy mumbles. "Er, not that you are," he hastily adds on. Pride just stares at him, unimpressed. He slowly wilts.

"No one will be there," Pride points out. "How bad could it possibly be?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so pride might have a theme song
> 
> and it might be "emperor's new clothes" by p!atd


	7. gay commercials before our regularly scheduled programming

If it weren't for the circumstances, Patton thinks he would be ecstatic. He's curled up next to Wrath, burrowing into his side, Wrath's arm casually looped around his shoulders and holding him closer. They're covered in blankets, but Patton doesn't think he would need any if it came down to it, because Wrath runs _hot_. He keeps casting shy glances up at Wrath's profile through his lashes and quickly darting his attention back to the TV, although he's so far gone at this point, he can barely comprehend what movie's playing.

"Angler fish!" Remus squeals. Patton jumps, a squeak of distress leaving his lips when the monstrous sea creature reveals itself. Wrath's arm tightens around his shoulders and when he looks up, he can see Wrath looking down on him, concern creasing his features.

"You okay?" Wrath rumbles. Patton nods, his cheeks flushed. Remus babbles something about the feeding habits of the angler fish, but Patton is too preoccupied with the slight stubble on Wrath's jaw and the freckles that spatter his nose and meander across his cheeks. They're faded, but this close, Patton can still see them.

_Focus,_ he scolds himself, turning back to the movie. But he _can't_ focus, not when Wrath is _right there_, and their thighs are touching, and Wrath's fingers are securely wrapped around his shoulder, holding him in place.

_All right, if you can't focus on the movie, why don't you focus on the reason this is all necessary in the first place,_ his mind says, and Patton has to hide a wince as guilt stabs him in the chest.

He doesn't know what the others want, but he doubts it's anything good. Remy wouldn't be as freaked out otherwise. He can hear Remy next to Virgil and Deceit, making snarky comments about the movie and slurping down yet another Starbucks drink, and the sound relieves him in a way he can't express. He's not used to Remy acting so...afraid. 

And he can't help but feel like that's all his fault. He's the one who split the mindscape, isn't he? He's the one who thought that he should wield the power of good and evil, that he _knew_ without a doubt that morality was just and that you could separate things into two discrete categories of Good and Bad and-

It turns out it's so much more complicated than he _ever_ expected, and he doesn't know if he'll ever feel like he's made up for it enough. If he ever _can_. He doesn't think that Pride and the twins will be willing to just sit down and talk. He doubts that they will have stirred the others from their places in the Imagination (for one thing, Roman would probably be able to tell at this point), but three of them is bad enough. Virgil, Deceit, and Remus took care of them just fine in the subconscious, but they aren't in the subconscious anymore, and he doesn't know what will happen to them (or Thomas, for that matter!) if a confrontation happens up here.

"Stop thinking so hard," Wrath whispers in his ear, and Patton blushes.

"That obvious, huh?" He says weakly. Wrath nods, tucking a strand of Patton's hair behind his ear with surprisingly gentle fingers.

"It'll be fine," Wrath murmurs. "Promise. They aren't as scary as they pretend to be. Just annoying."

"Still," Patton says. Before he can say anything else, Roman elbows him.

"No talking," he admonishes. Patton elects not to say anything about the sarcastic quips and one-liners Roman's been throwing at the screen the entire time, and instead, shares an amused glance with Wrath.

"The little kid should meet a kraken," Remus says. Patton opens his mouth to disagree, then closes it again with a thoughtful click. He can't say he would _condone_ her meeting a kraken, but at least then, she wouldn't be able to kill another fish...

Just as he leans his head against Wrath, feeling Wrath's warmth seep through his clothes, they all freeze-

As a piercing, haunting shriek tears through the mindspace, hurting Patton's ears.

From Remus's room.

"They're _he-ere_," Remus sing-songs, in an ominous whisper.

Patton feels like he's going to throw up.


	8. weirdmageddon redux

The trees start to thin out in front of them as Pride and the twins approach the demarcation between Roman's side of the Imagination and his brother's. Much of it is steep and rocky, near impassable, but this spot right here is more than adequate. The only real indication that they've even crossed is the skeletal appearance of the branches criss-crossing the sky above them.

"Does anyone know how far to the door?" Envy asks. Pride shrugs.

"A while," he says, curt. "But it doesn't matter. We'll get there." The confidence in his voice seems to soothe the others, for both Envy and Jealousy subside. (Although he can't help but notice the tighter grip Jealousy has on his baseball bat.)

Something crunches beneath Pride's boots and he looks down, a grimace of distaste crossing his face when he realizes he's stepping over tiny bones. They're all bleached white by the sun, heaped in haphazard piles, and he has no idea what they're from or who's done it. He looks back to see unease crawling over the twins.

"Maybe we should go back," Envy says uncertainly.

"Are you _afraid_?" Pride asks with a sneer. "I know it's Remus, but that doesn't mean that you have to run like a _coward_."

"Hey, would you kindly remember we're on your side?" Jealousy snaps. A hint of red tints Pride's cheeks.

"I apologize," he says stiffly. "I suppose I am merely a bit on edge."

"What exactly are we even planning to do?" Envy questions. "We can't just..._fight_ them."

"Make them listen," Pride says. "By any means necessary. If _Wrath_ can be welcomed with open arms..." He trails off, his mouth crinkling into a sneer.

"Watch out!" Jealousy shouts, snagging his sleeve and yanking him back. Looking down, Pride realizes he's nearly stepped right into a burbling stream of what looks like blood. He shudders.

"Thank you," he manages to get out. Jealousy just nods.

The roar of a waterfall can be heard in the distance. Pride heads that way, walking alongside the stream of blood. From time to time, little monstrous-looking creatures pop their heads out to get a good look at them. Nothing actually comes near them, and Pride is just starting to think what a good idea this was, when a roar shakes the landscape, scattering the tiny tentacled creatures that had been eyeing them to dive back into the stream.

"What was that?" Envy squeaks out, his eyes wide.

"I have no idea," Pride is forced to admit. "But I think perhaps we should walk faster." He sets off again, his stride long, his boots stomping down the brittle patches of grass that litter the ground. Clouds writhe in the sky, festooned with tentacles that lazily wave in a nonexistent breeze. The waterfall somehow flows _upward_, blood splashing against the clouds and turning the tentacles sodden, ominous black.

The roar comes again, louder this time, and against his better judgment, Pride turns to look.

He immediately wishes that he hadn't.

It's several hills away. That's the only blessing he can see. Even from this distance, he can see horns and claws and fangs, and he feels utterly certain that all three are tipped with clear drops of poison.

"Oh, shit," Envy says in a tiny voice. 

"Run!" Jealousy blurts out, shoving past them both. Not to be put to shame, Pride sprints after him, his breath sobbing in his lungs and tearing at his throat. All thoughts of the others have been forgotten, consumed by the monstrous conglomeration of teeth and claw that's lumbering after them, eating up the distance with each ponderous stride.

The door comes into sharp relief, nearly devoured by acid-streaked tentacles. Deer with bulbous red eyes and massive fangs stand in front of it, idly grazing. One looks up, and Pride nearly falls when he sees the ferocity glittering in those red eyes. The deer charge, eyes narrowed and fangs glistening with god knows what. Dimly, he can hear Envy sobbing in terror. 

The ground opens up before them, swallowing one of the deer with a sound like a satisfied burp. Pride stares at the jagged rip in the grass in horror, even as the other deer veer cautiously away, giving him and the twins reproachful glances. Behind them, another roar shakes the ground, closer this time. Always closer.

"Jump!" Jealousy exclaims, suiting action to words. He lands on the other side, sprawled on bloody grass, before he stumbles to his feet. Pride blindly seizes Envy's hand, towing him along as he jumps. He nearly loses his footing on the slippery grass, but Jealousy yanks him forward, dragging Envy with him, until they collapse in a tangle.

"We aren't out of the woods yet," Pride says, breathing hard. The deer have vanished. He has no idea where they are, and he doesn't want to know. In front of them, the grass hisses as something spatters down on it. He looks up to see one of the deer securely perched in a tree. Its eyes are closed and large, clear drops of poison drip off long, exposed fangs.

"What the fuck?" Envy squeaks, staring upward with him.

"It doesn't matter," Pride says, in a rush. "Come _on_."

The ground trembles and he can't help but look behind him, like a cliche in a horror movie.

The beast is there, on the other side of the jagged slash in the ground. It looks at them with piggy red eyes, glittering with pure malice. Sharp, crooked-tipped horns poke out between clumps of shaggy black and green fur. Tentacles writhe between the horns, weaving between them like some sort of macabre decoration. Its mouth is crammed full of fangs, shoved in its gums every which way, until Pride can't begin to comprehend each one.

"Run to the door," Pride orders under his breath. "Maybe- maybe it can't jump." Just as it begins to back up, in preparation to cross. Pride turns back around and bolts to the door, pulling tentacles away with wild abandon, no matter how much the viscous green liquid coating them burns and eats at his hands. It hurts, oh god it hurts, but he knows if the beast gets to him, it will hurt even more. Envy and Jealousy help, pitching the tentacles away into the bloodied clearing, until finally the door is clear.

"Sayonara, fuck face," Pride says over his shoulder just as the beast soars over the crack in the ground. All three of them tumble through the door, to the tune of an anguished shriek of the damned.

"Shit," Jealousy says, shoving the door shut just in time. They hear the impact of the monster hitting the door and shudder in unison.

"Now what?" Envy asks. His eyes look huge in the dim light.

"We find the others," Pride says, with a confidence he does not fully feel. Now that he's sprawled out, safe, on Remus's bedroom floor, his hands and lower arms are raw and alive with pain, sizzling down each nerve ending like he's been repeatedly prodded with a live wire. "We find Morality."

And he clambers to his feet.


	9. honey i'm home

Virgil feels like his nerves are screaming, on high alert, as the last strains of Remus's alarm fade away into the air. Dimly, he hears Remus say something, but it feels like his ears have been stuffed full of cotton wool. 

Cool fingers circle his wrist and yellow fills his vision.

"Four seven eight, Virgil," his boyfriend calmly instructs, and Virgil does his best to match his unsteady breathing to the rhythm before he has a full blown panic attack and affects Thomas. (He doesn't know how to begin to explain the current goings-on to Thomas and he hopes they don't have to any time soon.)

"There we are," Deceit says, some time later. A soft smile touches his mouth. "There you are, Virge, it's all right."

"The others-" Virgil says weakly, his face flushed brilliant red.

"Appear to still be in Remus's room," Deceit says, quiet. "And if you notice-" He flourishes a freshly gloved hand behind him. Virgil looks and sees that the other sides have shifted, masking him and his potential panic attack from sight. It makes him feel warm inside, in a giddy sort of way.

"Do you feel better?" Deceit asks. Virgil nods, pulling the ends of his hoodie sleeves over his hands.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"It's fine," Deceit reassures him.

"It is perfectly understandable, actually," Logan chimes in. "This is an anxiety-provoking situation, after all. As you are Anxiety..." He trails off delicately, but Virgil gets what he's trying to say.

"Why won't they come out?" Patton wonders. Wrath's got one arm curled around Patton's shoulders, hooking him close. Patton doesn't seem to mind an iota.

"Ooh, I bet I know," Remus says, and giggles. Virgil remembers the tentacles writhing across Remus's door into the Imagination and winces.

"Remus, what did those tentacles do?" He asks. Remus grins, a movement that looks bigger than his face.

"Secrete acid, of course," he says happily. "Hey, do you think there's a way to see from the living room? I wanna see if I can see their _bones_-"

"Remus, that's a horrible thought," Roman says, his face rapidly paling. "That-"

"Oh, calm _down_," Remus says, with a snort. "It's not _that_ strong an acid."

"It's still acid," Patton squeaks. Virgil chews on his bottom lip, torn. On the one hand, Pride and the twins don't have good intentions and he _knows_ that.

On the other hand, it's Remus.

"Babes, I gotta go with Patton cake here," Remy says, his eyes slightly troubled behind his sunglasses.

"You are no fun," Remus says, a pout drooping his mouth. Logan puts an arm around a ruffled shoulder and tugs him closer.

"It is all right, Remus," Logan assures him, just as an all-too-familiar voice interrupts.

"Miss us?"

Virgil looks up and his mouth drops. It's Pride, Envy, and Jealousy, all right, but they look like they've been ripped through a hedge backward and then run over. He can see Pride's hands and nausea surges up his throat, because his hands are red and raw and blistered. His arms aren't much better. Virgil doesn't know how he isn't unconscious, although he doesn't look far from it.

"What do you want?" Wrath asks, tired, and Virgil buzzes with nervous energy, rocking back and forth on the bed, because he doesn't know what else to do.

"What do you _think_ we want?" Pride snaps, his voice hot and harsh and pain-filled. "To be acknowledged by Thomas. You think he needs _you_? You-"

"No," Wrath interrupts quietly and Pride deflates, staring at him in shock.

"What?" Pride asks, blank.

"I don't think Thomas _needs_ me," Wrath says. Patton gasps.

"Of course he does!" Patton cries. "What are you talking about, Wrath, you-"

"I don't know why I got moved," Wrath continues, ignoring Patton, although Virgil can see his grip tighten, for just a moment, on Patton's shoulder. "I guess it's just because Thomas knows about me now. Not because of my- my importance or some shit."

"Don't underestimate yourself, bitch," Remy murmurs under his breath. Only Virgil and Deceit hear him.

"Then Thomas should get to know _us_," Pride declares. Envy and Jealousy nod, holding onto each other in such a way that Virgil thinks if either of them stepped away, they'd both collapse.

"Yeah," Wrath agrees. "But right now?"

"Why _not_ right now?" Pride argues. "You think he doesn't need his _pride_? After everything that's happened in the mindscape? Do you think we were unaware?" He gestures wildly, indicating the twins. He takes a step forward and brushes up against the shimmering barrier.

"I think you need to have your injuries assessed," Logan interjects, his voice blunt. "The three of you look like you are about to collapse on the floor and I can see the state of your hands from here."

"Lo Lo," Remus whines. Logan presses a tiny kiss to Remus's forehead.

"I know," Logan says softly.

"Logan's right," Patton admits. Virgil's rocking increases until Deceit places a hand on his shoulder, grounding him with his presence.

"Are you amenable to having your wounds taken care of?" Logan asks. Pride looks like he wants to say no, on sheer principle, and Virgil hates how much he wants him to disagree. 

_They don't deserve _that_ and you know it,_ his conscience argues. In the subconscious, when he and Remus and Deceit had taken care of them, it had been a temporary thing. No harm done, beyond a psychological reminder of what they were capable of.

But this. Remus had shut off his side of the Imagination _hard_. Virgil could only imagine what they had met in the Imagination (those fanged deer come to his mind, and he shudders), and then to deal with acid-oozing tentacles on top of all that?

"Just say yes, Pride," he blurts out, before he knows he's speaking at all. "Your hands look like shit."

Slowly, hesitantly, Pride nods.


	10. patchwork

But of course it isn't as easy as all that.

"No Morality," Pride declares. His hands feel like they're on fire and perhaps he should, well, swallow his pride (himself?), but he _can't_, not when Morality is sitting there with his cat cardigan thrown around his shoulders and eyes swimming behind square glasses. Wrath's got one protective arm around Morality's shoulders and Pride can read _that_ loud and clear.

"I'll do it," Logan says, adjusting his glasses. "I am the one who has the most first aid experience, I believe-"

"Me, too," Remus blurts out. "I'm gonna help, too, Lo Lo."

"Fine," Pride agrees, begrudging, because while he doesn't trust Remus more than he can throw him, he _does_ trust Logic to fulfill his duties. (Even if the hickeys scattered across Logic's neck make his eyes widen.)

Logan snaps his fingers, and a first aid kit falls into his lap.

"Patton, are we able to exit?" He questions, gesturing toward the shimmering barrier keeping Pride and the twins out.

"Oh yeah, you should be able to," Morality says, with a quivering nod. "And er- get back." The last is almost mumbled, but Pride still hears it, loud and clear, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Here," Logan says, turning toward Remus. "Remus, could you create a table and some chairs out there? I think it would be best if they sat down."

Beside him, Envy winces when Remus snaps his fingers, but to Pride's relief, it looks almost abnormally normal. As if Remus took the idea of a "regular table and chairs" out of a furniture magazine and set them down in the mindscape's hallway. 

Pride sits down, the process more of a controlled fall, and lets his arms gingerly rest on the edge of the table, as Logan and Remus approach, Logan holding the first aid kit. There is a manic glitter to Remus's eyes that lets Pride know what will happen if he tries anything. Not that he has any plans to do anything to _Logic_. 

Now, if _Morality_ stood in front of him...

"Do you remember anything at all?" He blurts out, his face instantly reddening. Remus looks at him, curious, neck cricked to one side.

"Huh?" Remus asks, but Pride is already shaking his head, cheeks burning.

"Never mind," he says, trying to pretend he can't see the cogs working behind Logic's eyes, or the suddenly sharp gaze of Deceit from across the room.

"You really did a number on your hands," Remus says cheerfully. "The tentacles must have _loved_ you."

"That is not the impression I got," Pride says, his tone sour.

"Is there anything I need to know about this substance, Remus?" Logan asks. Remus shrugs, fidgeting with the frills on the ends of his sleeves. 

"Don't touch it," he says.

"Gee, if only I'd thought of that," Jealousy snarks under his breath. "Oh wait, we were too busy running from some god awful thing with more teeth than fur."

"You must have met a were-bear," Logan comments mildly. Pride stares at him, incredulous.

"That thing has a _name_?"

"Oh yes," Logan says, setting out first aid supplies on the table. "It isn't a particularly charming creature to other people besides Remus."

"And the deer?" Envy pipes up.

"And the way the ground _ate_ one?" Jealousy continues. Remus grins, his teeth sharp and bright. Pride swallows.

"This may hurt," Logan admits. "In fact, it almost certainly will."

"A lot," Remus contributes.

"But I will do my best to avoid causing you further injury," Logan says. "It looks like you need stitches in a few places, Pride."

"Wipe the acid off first," Remus says. "It doesn't work like regular acid. Probably. Who knows?" He shrugs expansively. "I didn't take Chemistry."

"Thank you for the tip, Remus," Logan says. Pride can see the hint of affection in his eyes when he looks at Remus. _Interesting_. Then Logic is cleaning his wounds and Pride has to bite back a scream.

True to his word, Logan tries to be gentle, but he _hurts_ so damn much, he doesn't think anything would have been gentle enough. By the time Logic is done and his hands and arms are thoroughly bandaged up, he's sweated through all his clothes and he feels like he's going to pass out. 

"Is that better?" Remus asks and Pride is forced to acknowledge that it _is_. 

"Yes," he says, through gritted teeth. "Thank you," he adds, after a moment's consideration. Remus relaxes minutely and Pride blesses the impulse to actually express his gratitude. He doesn't need a morningstar to the head, thank you very much.

"This changes nothing," Jealousy bites out, as Logan moves onto him. "Y'all are still on my shit list."

"I would expect nothing else," Logan says dryly. "I look forward to having a discussion with you about what is best for Thomas."

"You _do_?" Pride asks in surprise, echoing Jealousy. Logan nods.

"Of course," he says. "I believe that you want what is best for Thomas, as do we all." He nods back toward the living room. "Am I incorrect in that assumption?"

"No," Pride says.

"Well then," Logic says, slightly inclining his head. "To me, that means an agreement can be made between all parties involved."

"And I want to meet Thomas," Pride puts in quickly. "I _deserve_ to meet him."

"You do," Logan agrees. "To me, it is merely a question of timing. He has been through a lot recently, as you are aware. I am not sure whether learning of new Sides would be good for him. But I'm open to new evidence." He smiles slightly and Pride blinks, dazed.

This is not at all going how he expected, he reflects, as Logan moves onto Envy. 

He has no idea how he feels about that.


	11. a guilt trip down memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of this is the result of the brilliant TheLittleTrashCat, who wrote an amazing fic from pride's pov that you can find here: ["most of the time"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22504849)
> 
> it's brilliant and full of that sweet, sweet angst and you should read it if you like pride and/or suffering

Not even the solid warmth of Wrath's arm wrapped around his shoulders can dislodge the shame burning in Patton's throat as he watches Logan and Remus duck out through the shimmering barrier that separates them from Pride, Envy, and Jealousy. He hates the sneaking sense of relief the barrier evokes. They're other Sides of Thomas, for pete's sake. They all want to help Thomas in the end, don't they? Even if their methods aren't necessarily the most helpful?

But that's the thing, isn't it, Patton thinks, and swallows hard. They all want to help _Thomas_. _He_ is most certainly _not_ Thomas and Pride in particular has no reason to trust or help him and more than enough reason to hurt him.

_It's not like I don't deserve it,_ he thinks, tears stinging his eyes as he watches Logan tend to the egregious wounds on Pride's hands. He may have patched things up with Roman and Remus, but Pride? Look at what his childish view of the world had done to them. To _all_ of them. When you're a child, the world is black and white, with no room for grey. Good or bad, no in between. And Creativity-

Creativity had paid the price, but Romulus wasn't the only one who had been torn asunder. He's still not sure what exactly happened to Pride when the split occurred (it isn't like he could just go up and _ask_, he'd read the anger in Pride's voice loud and clear when he requested anyone but Morality to tend to his wounds, and who could blame him? Patton certainly couldn't), but he knows it was bad. 

"Are you all right?" Virgil hisses in his ear. Patton jumps, trying to school his expression to something calmer.

"Peachy," he chirps. Or tries to, anyway. It falls miserably flat.

"Patton, I know when you're lying," Deceit chimes in, his voice low enough that the others won't be able to hear. From Patton's perspective, they all look thoroughly engrossed in what Logan's doing, anyway. He catches the bright glint of a needle in Logan's hand, and nausea roils in his stomach and up his throat. 

"All right," Patton deflates. Wrath looks down at him with concerned eyes, threaded with red filaments. They remind Patton of lightning. "I'm not okay," he admits. "But it- it doesn't matter. I'm not the one who deserves to be looked after right now." He nods toward the three outsiders, still being tended to by Logan and a very jittery-looking Remus. "_They_ are and I'm afraid I've treated them pretty poorly in the past. Especially-" He stops, his throat tight.

"Pride," Wrath fills in softly. Patton nods, toying with the sleeves of his cat hoodie.

"I don't know how to make it up to them," he says quietly, staring down into his lap. "I don't know if I even _can_."

"Of course you can," Roman says, joining the hushed conversation. His eyes are bright. "You did for Remus and me, did you not?"

"Roman, that's different," Patton says. "Especially for you, I never-" He falters, unwilling to say the next words. _I never threw you out._

"That doesn't matter," Roman says fiercely. "Remus has forgiven you. I don't know whether Pride or the others ever will, but I know there's a chance. And I know that you'll do your darnedest to fix the situation. That's who you _are_, Pat. You've _changed_. We- we all have."

"Roman is right, I'm afraid," Deceit murmurs in his ear. "If you hadn't, I certainly wouldn't be sitting here. Would I?"

"Well, no," Patton is forced to admit. "I'm glad things have changed," he whispers. "It's just- It's so much change, in so short a time, I can't even imagine how Thomas must feel-"

"Confused," Virgil says, with a slight, shaky laugh. "But that's okay. We'll figure it out, Pat."

"Promise," Wrath says roughly, squeezing Patton's shoulders. Warmth settles in Patton's chest, sending fragile blossoms of hope through his body.

Then he looks up and frowns.

Pride's glaring straight at him.


	12. round table meeting

"There," Logan says, adding the last finishing touches to Jealousy's bandages.

"What now?" Pride asks. He has a belligerent tilt to his chin that Logan recognizes from Remus.

"Now, I believe that we should talk," Logan says, striving to sound as calm as possible. It is harder than it should be. Then again, he has never faced down a trio of angry Sides, never mind the fact that their grievances are (at least in part) legitimate.

"We should meet Thomas," Pride starts out. Logan nods in agreement. A flicker of surprise runs through Pride's eyes.

"I told you that I agreed with that already," Logan points out. "I also believe that all of us should be in this conversation." He half turns in his seat, to see that Patton has taken the shimmering barrier down. Wrath has moved in front of Patton, his stance clear from the stiff line of his shoulders and the fists clenched at his sides.

"I don't think _Morality_ has anything to add here," Jealousy sneers. Wrath bristles.

"I could say the same for you," Roman shoots back. "If you want to talk about this, then _everyone_ gets a say who wants one." Logan arches an eyebrow in mild surprise at Roman's words. He is keenly aware of Remus's vibrating presence next to him. Without looking, he reaches back and squeezes Remus's hand gently.

"First things first," Deceit murmurs, an inscrutable expression on his face. "Let's get rid of the bed. Roman? Remus?"

The twins snap their fingers in unison, and the living room is instead filled with a large, round table, with enough chairs for everyone. Remy takes his and scoots back against the wall, sipping on yet another Starbucks drink and watching the crowd over his sunglasses.

Logan ends up sitting next to Pride, while on the other side of the twins, Deceit and Virgil have taken up a watchful post. Wisely, Patton has chosen to sit across from Envy and Jealousy, the farthest he can get while still being at the table.

"So," Pride says, taking up the thread of the prior conversation. "If you agree that we should meet Thomas, what is the issue?"

"Thomas has been through a lot in the past week," Logan says. "I assume you are aware of depression and his visit to the doctor?" Reluctantly, Pride nods. "I, for one, am concerned that meeting new Sides that he was previously unaware of could be detrimental to his mental well being. Yes, he has met Wrath and had a positive experience, but meeting Deceit and Remus unfortunately did not- well, we learned from previous poor experiences." Logan knows that's an over simplification (if not an outright falsehood, in some ways), but it is the only way he can think to describe it on short notice. Anything more should come from Deceit and Remus, on that subject.

"I'm his _pride_," Pride retorts. "If anything, he _should_ meet me because he _needs_ me. He needs to feel proud of himself, of his accomplishments."

"And we're a package deal," Envy adds, haughty. The ruffles around his sleeve flutter when he pushes his hair out of his eyes. Logan idly wonders if it is possible to burn a costume while someone is still wearing it. Regretfully, he thinks not.

"That's a potential problem," Deceit speaks up. "Fair enough, _Pride_. I am _all_ for Thomas feeling proud of himself, but how can Envy and Jealousy help him, particularly when he is this vulnerable?"

"Better than you," Jealousy mutters, before Pride elbows him.

"Knowing more of himself," Pride says promptly. "Is self awareness not an important thing?"

"It is," Logan says, adjusting his glasses. "But the possibility of overwhelming him still exists. Perhaps it would be better to introduce the three of you one at a time. Or Pride first, then Envy and Jealousy," he adds hastily when the twins stiffen.

"No," Envy says, before Pride can say anything. "It's all three of us or no deal."

"Why?" Logan asks.

"Because he's not more important than we are," Envy says, stubborn. Pride eyes him with a look that says _that's what you think_.

Logan rubs his forehead, wondering when exactly he became mediator of this discussion, rapidly devolving into an argument.

He has a feeling this is going to take longer than he expected it would.

Especially when he hears the next words.

"What do _you_ think, Morality?"


	13. i'm sorry doesn't mean much

"What do I think?" Patton repeats. Wrath can feel Patton's leg jiggling against his with the force of his nerves. When he looks Patton's way, Patton forces a smile and shoves his glasses up his nose. "Well, um-"

"Yeah, _Morality_," Envy sneers. Wrath fights down the urge to flip the table in Envy's face. That wouldn't be productive at all. _And Patton would be ashamed of you,_ flickers through his mind. He tries his best to ignore it.

"Well, I think Logan has a really good point," Patton admits. "I'm- well, I'm at the core of a lot of Thomas's feelings. Not just the good ones." Wrath squeezes his hand under the table, rewarded by a quick squeeze back. "Thomas has been really overwhelmed. Depression is...not easy to deal with. He's had to accept Deceit, Remus, and Wrath in a really, really short time. And I- I'm glad that he's been able to do that. I'm proud of him for being able to do that. I'm not sure that he can keep doing it so soon."

"Who made you the judge and jury over revealing myself to Thomas?" Pride hisses. He looks like he wants to slam his hands on the table, but refrains because of his injuries. "Why is it _your_ decision?"

"We're all here, trying to make a decision, Pride," Logan points out. Pride immediately ignores him.

"You're the reason Creativity split," Pride says baldly. "You're the reason that I- well, you _know_ what you did." Patton winces beside him, and Wrath wonders why. Pride has always been secretive after Roman and Remus's creation. Not even Wrath is _completely_ certain what happened. He's not sure he wants to know. "Now _you_ decide who gets to meet Thomas? If anything, _you_ should be the one locked away!"

"No," Roman interrupts, his voice loud and too sharp. "No, he shouldn't. He's learned, Pride. He's learned and he's apologized and he's _grown_. Have you?"

"He never apologized to _me_," Pride says. "Why should I listen to a word you say? You're clearly up Morality's ass. You're not even-"

"I'm sorry," Patton blurts out. He sounds like he's near tears. "You're right. I'm sorry, Pride. I know that it- it can't make up for all the time that you were- you were locked away, all the time you didn't get to see Thomas. I don't know all that you've gone through, but I'm sorry. I was wrong, way back when."

"You were a child," Roman says quietly. "We all were."

"That doesn't excuse it," Patton says, turning toward him. "That doesn't make it okay. It wasn't okay. Not for you and Remus, and not for Pride. I'm sorry."

"I-" Pride looks dazed.

"You think an apology is gonna fix shit?" Jealousy asks. His eyes burn into Patton's, across the table. Wrath stiffens.

"No," Patton says quietly, shaking his head. "But it's a start."

"Thank you for apologizing," Pride says. Jealousy snorts, turning to him, but Pride ignores him. "You're right. It doesn't fix it. I don't like you. I don't like that you think I'm somehow _bad_ for Thomas. What is wrong with being _proud_ of yourself? Of your accomplishments? Thomas has so much to be proud of. He needs to feel it."

"You're right," Patton says. "He does. I just-" He looks down. Wrath rubs soothing circles around Patton's hand with his thumb.

"I don't know what to do," Patton admits.

"Let us out," Envy says promptly. "Thomas should meet us. All of us. We're all part of him. It's not fair."

"All three of you?" Patton asks. "I- I know how we can spin Pride, but I don't know how to talk about the two of you."

"What, are we too bad for you?" Jealousy asks, his voice sickly sweet. His eyes glitter poison green.

Wrath stiffens, trying unobtrusively to get in front of Patton. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Virgil sit up, fists balled in the sleeves of his hoodie.

_This is about to go to shit, isn't it._


	14. you know legends never die

"I'm sorry," Patton blurts out, near tears, and for a moment, Pride thinks that he has misheard him. Surely Morality can't be talking to _him_. Apologizing to Roman and Remus, sure, why not, but _him_?

"You're right," Morality continues, further cementing Pride's new belief that he has somehow ended up in Opposite Land. "I'm sorry, Pride. I know that it- it can't make up for all the time that you were- were locked away, all the time you didn't get to see Thomas. I don't know all that you've gone through, but I'm sorry. I was wrong way back when."

"You were a child. We all were," Roman says, his voice quiet. Pride just stares at them both, eyes wide. He feels like his mind has been scrambled.

"That doesn't excuse it," Patton says firmly. "That doesn't make it okay. It wasn't okay. Not for you and Remus, and not for Pride. I'm sorry."

"I-" Pride stops. He doesn't know what to say. He's wanted this for so long. Hasn't he? Here's Morality, apologizing. Almost _groveling_. It feels-

He doesn't know how it feels anymore.

"You think an apology is gonna fix shit?" Jealousy asks, his voice a splinter drilling into Pride's brain. His eyes burn bright, poisonous green. Wrath stiffens across the table.

"No," Morality says, shaking his head. "But it's a start."

"Thank you for apologizing," Pride finally settles on saying. Jealousy snorts. He ignores him. "You're right. It doesn't fix it. I don't like you," he says bluntly. "I don't like that you think I'm somehow _bad_ for Thomas. What is wrong with being _proud_ of yourself? Of your accomplishments? Thomas has so much to be proud of. He needs to feel it." He finishes his impromptu speech, breathing heavily. Under the table, he can feel the urge to flex his fists, to destroy Logan's hard work.

"You're right," Patton admits. "He does. I just-" He pauses, looking into his lap. When he looks back up, his eyes are full of an emotion Pride doesn't want to examine too closely.

"I don't know what to do," Morality confesses.

"Let us out," Envy says, before Pride can say a word. "Thomas should meet us. All of us. We're all part of him. It's not fair."

"All three of you?" Morality asks, doubtful. "I- I know how we can spin Pride, but I don't know how to talk about the two of you."

"What, are we too bad for you?" Jealousy asks, his voice sickly sweet. His eyes glitter and Pride can already tell that this is going downhill rapidly.

"Jealousy-" he starts to say, but Jealousy rolls right over him, words spilling out in a poisonous flood.

"Are we not worth keeping around?" Jealousy asks, fingers twitching around his bat. "You want us to stay in the depths of the subconscious, is that it, Morality? Are we too _distasteful_ for you? We aren't the _good_ twins, I get it, we aren't the ones you can _keep_, but you could at least have the decency to fucking say so!"

"What?" Morality asks, plainly dumbfounded. "What do you-"

"_Them_," Envy hisses vehemently, gesturing at Roman and Remus. "They aren't even supposed to _exist_ but you took them in, didn't you? The _new_ twins, the _favored_ twins. But we were _bad_, so why not banish us? And now we _still_ aren't good enough for Morality?"

"That isn't what I meant," Morality squeaks. Jealousy bares his teeth at him.

"Too fucking bad," Jealousy says. "If Pride can show himself, then so can we, end of story."

"Yeah," Pride puts in, although frankly, he would be just as happy _not_ sharing such an important moment with the poor fashion twins. (That's unfair, he mentally chides himself. Jealousy looks perfectly fine.)

"I think perhaps we should all calm down," Logan says. Jealousy laughs, and the sound lacks all humor.

"This _is_ me calm," he hisses. "You don't want to see me not calm."

"We didn't want to see you at all, but here we are," Virgil mutters.

"Virgil!" Morality exclaims. "That isn't helpful." Virgil shrugs, burying himself deeper in his hoodie.

"Whatever," he says.

"No, _Virgil_, tell us how you really feel," Envy spits out. "_You_ weren't accepted either for quite some time. Or have you forgotten? None of you-" His scathing gaze catches Deceit, Remus, and finally lands on Wrath. "But Wrath here, I guess all you have to do to get accepted is get Morality to bone you-"

"That's enough," Wrath says, standing up. His chair clatters behind him. Jealousy grins a shark smile.

"What's the matter, Wrath?" He purrs. "Did my twin strike a nerve?"

"Maybe he would have if you two weren't sharing a brain cell," Wrath says. "It's not my fault that Thomas's mind saw fit to move me over here, but I can't see him doing the same for you."

"Right, that's it," Jealousy says and lunges across the table, bat already up and ready. Pride jumps up and tries to grab him, bashing his elbow rather painfully on the table, just as Roman and Remus desperately lunge forward, hands outstretched to remove the table from the equation. The table disappears mid-swing and there's a brilliant flash of white light. 

When the sparkles clear from Pride's eyes, he looks up and thumps gracelessly to his knees.

"Your Majesty," he whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as if i'll just leave it at that

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [most of the time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22504849) by [TheLittleTrashCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleTrashCat/pseuds/TheLittleTrashCat)


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